Color Theory
by VerityFrancesB
Summary: A few one shots based on our favourite couple.
1. Blue

_Ok, this started out as one shot BUT I think I have got some more things to add to it, more colors. This one is kinda abstract at some points, so sorry if you hate it! _

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Blue is calming. It can be strong and steadfast or light and friendly. Almost everyone likes some shade of the color blue.

But I didn't like blue. It reminded me too much of him. The color of his eyes, ice blue when he was angry or the almost navy blue when he was smiling. Not that he smiled too much in my direction back then. But every now and then, he would smile at someone else; I would catch a glimpse of them from the side and coupled with the wrinkles at the edges of his baby blues, it made my heart skip a beat.

It was the color that had always surrounded him. Right from the beginning when he had locked himself away from the world, and his blue was depressing, till he bought himself out and the blue became calming. Calming, yet mysterious, like the sea, I suppose. A force of nature not to be reckoned with, not to take for granted, something that could crush you with one wave of a hand.

Adding a cool blue to a hot red will cool it down. That's what he did to me, he calmed me down, also irritated the hell out of me, so much so that sometimes I wanted to strangle the bastard, but there were those times when only his touch would soothe me, only his hands in my hair would calm the nerves, and still the echoes of the past. Obviously if you add the wrong red to the wrong blue you end up with a big old mess, something which resembles…crap…basically, and on occasion that's what happened.

If you added his icy blue to my fiery red, ice and fire don't' mix, then there would be hell to pay for all around. But, if you added his cerulean blue to my scarlet, you would get purple, the color of royalty, the sacred color of nature. However, too much purple can result in moodiness. So it went back to the beginning, the ice and fire battling with each other.

Dark blue with metallic silver accents make an elegantly rich appearance. I read that once in a magazine and it had ever since haunted me, maybe haunted is the wrong word but, his silver hair contrasting with his color, that was so obvious that sometimes I wondered if everybody else saw it radiating off him, made me want to close my eyes and dream, dream the dreams that I used to when I was young, a knight coming to rescue me from my tower. But those were childish dreams, not the dreams for the head of an armed federal agency. So the dreams were put away, until one day, the blue found them and made them come true.

I never imagined that the color of love would be blue; I always thought it would be red. It was the color of his eyes, the color of the sky when I realized that I was hopelessly in love with him, the color the night sky when I finally told him that I loved him, the color my heart turned when he didn't say anything back and the color the TV screen bathed the room in when I poured my heart out on paper and told him I was leaving, again, the color of the flame that burnt the letter when he grabbed it from my hand and told me I wasn't leaving and the color we painted the latest boat in his basement, which was named Jenny. He didn't burn that one, we sailed it in calm, blue waters.

* * *

_V!_

_xox_


	2. Red

Red is hot. It's a strong color that conjures up a range of seemingly conflicting emotions from passionate love to violence and warfare. Red is Cupid and the Devil

Cupid and the Devil, love and hate. It's the color that surrounds her, not just because of her red hair. Sometimes it's the color that obscures my vision, the color that makes me want to shakes her till her teeth rattle, or take her up against the wall in her office. The line between lust and anger has never been so blurred as when she is around.

Red can increase the rate of respiration and raise blood pressure. She did that to me in more ways that one. Sometimes the minute she opened her mouth, my blood pressure would go through the roof, purely because she had this uncanny ability to infuriate me, and she did it on purpose. Then other times, the increased rate of respiration was nothing to do with irritation, but the fact that I had given in to the urge to take her against the wall.

The color red grabs people's attention and makes them take action. She certainly grabbed peoples attention and could make anyone do what she wanted, either with the warning flash of her eyes, the danger red, or the scarlet woman routine, where she would lean over someone, brush their arm slightly, and 9 times out of 10, the person would crumble. I, however, would see red when she did that. I couldn't explain to her that she was mine, had always been mine, even when she left Paris, she had still been mine, but I would see red and my hands would clench by my side until her eyes found mine and she would smile the smile that reminded me of the sunrise.

There were different shades of her red. The orange one, when she was in a good mood, breezing around, humming slightly to herself; the pink one where she was in a wistful mood, floating around with a dreamy look in her eyes, that only happened very occasionally; the deep, dark red, the one which would make everyone around her take cover. I didn't know which one was my favorite.

There were times when we would clash, and the red flag would be almost visible outside her office, signifying a coming battle. A battle of wills between two all consuming forces. Me and her, passion and desire, lust and anger, all mixing around her office, crashing into one another, both of us trying to ignore the strong pull of her scarlet passion radiating off her. Occasionally we would give in and fire and ice would meet. I think this was the red that I liked the most, the one that would make her cry out my name and scrape her nails down my back.

It had always been this way with us, and part of me thought it would always be. We would dance around each other, and then collide in fury of emotions, both of us hating ourselves for ignoring it and yet at the same time trying desperately to ignore the blood red love that was coursing through our veins.

One day with both gave up trying to ignore it, simultaneously, and it was just there, we didn't have to voice it, we both just knew. I no longer saw the bad shades of red, the flashing warning signs. I saw the good red, the red letter days, the red sky at night, and even though I am not a sailor, it was my delight.

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_For those of you that don't understand the bit at the end, there is an old wives tales that goes "Red sky at night, sailors delight, red sky in the morning, sailors warning." _

_V!_

_xox_


	3. Yellow

Yellow is sunshine. It's a warm color that, like red, has conflicting symbolism. On the one hand it denotes happiness and joy but on the other hand yellow is the color of cowardice and deceit. It also makes my eyes water and blinds me.

He was the same; he made me happy but yet makes me a coward. I can't bring myself to give in to the yellow; it is almost as if I am punishing myself, punishing myself for leaving, for taking the cowards way out. I didn't want to, I wanted to face the sun, feel it warming my face, its heat seeping into my bones, but instead I turned away from it, shielded my eyes, and hid from it, like a vampire.

Yellow is one of the warm colors, it is happiness, it is cheerfulness. I wish I could believe that. Once upon a time I did, I gave into the yellow, basked in the warmth. Not now though, mix my red with yellow and you get orange, the color of fire and fire burns. It burns hot and fierce, destroying everything in its path. Sometimes I wish it would destroy me so I wouldn't be left behind here.

In Egypt, yellow is the color of mourning. It is apt at this particular moment in time, and I feel it will be apt for the rest of my life, for the rest of my life I will be mourning, mourning what I have lost. Sometimes I feel that I could almost reach out and touch him, like he is standing behind me, turning me to face the yellow, the bright yellow. Other times I know he isn't there and I almost lift the phone to ring him, almost.

My yellow sometimes inches towards green, questioning who he is with and wondering if he ever thinks of me. But then the thought of him makes the equilibrium shift back to yellow, the warm color, the color of remembrance.

Our lives were filled with warning yellow. They always had been, it was something that both of us had come to understand. The flashing yellow triangle was always surrounding us, but it was something that we both ignored, we were too wrapped up in the sunshine yellow of happiness, too wrapped up in each other to notice the danger yellow that was lurking behind us, and then it was too late.

The yellow that flashed then was not a warning, it wasn't happiness either, it was deceit. The yellow had lied to me; it promised me joy and gave me pain, left me an empty shell longing for the cleansing fire which never came.

I swear I will try Jethro, I swear I will try to face the yellow again. I stroke the stone beneath my fingers and whisper my promise. For as long as I live, which sometimes I hope won't be very long, I will wear my yellow of remembrance.

R.I.P

Leroy Jethro Gibbs

Loving Husband to Jennifer Shepard

Loving Father to Kelly and Grace

Hero to All

_

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_

Don't hate me! I didn't want to kill him, but it happened that way, rest assured that they were both really really old and lived a full life together, see!! I gave them another daughter! 

_V!_

_Xox_


	4. Green

Green is life. Abundant in nature, green signifies growth, renewal, health, and environment. On the flip side, green is jealousy or envy (green-eyed monster) and inexperience. It certainly was all that. As I hold the tiny bundle in my arms, I am suddenly hit with a wave of life; I am holding a life in my hands. I do it every day but it is never our life, never the life we have made together. I want to protect this with every fiber of my being.

Green reminds me of her, green eyes which flash with life when she looks at me. She looks good in green. A rich green that reminds me of the condition she in, reminds me that she is growing life. Our life, red and blue mixed and against the rules of nature made green. But we have never played by the rules.

With both a warming and cooling effect, the color green denotes balance, harmony, and stability. That's what she bought to my life now, stability and harmony. Stability, like the root of a great tree, under foot, where you can't see them, ever growing, making it harder to rip out the tree from the ground. I haven't felt stability like that for a long time and harmony, reds, blues, yellows and greens all melting into one another.

Sometimes the green eyed monster reared its ugly head. It surrounded me, suffocated me, and made me blind with fury, all because someone else touched her. That's the green that I hated. I hated that feeling of helplessness, not being about to control the dark green that came creeping in from the corner, like a serpent, making my hands clench by my side, my blood pound faster through my veins. All she had to do though was turn her green eyes towards me and everything was forgotten, except the spring green which covers the dark green twisting snake, and I remembered that she only has eyes for me.

She gripped my arm, making me wince and I realized that the green was coming; I was once again being graced with life. That's why we chose the name Grace, because she graced us with her presence. Jens green with my blue produced an echo of nature - water and forest can denote new beginnings. It was new beginning for us, it wasn't the happy ending we were looking for, it was a happy beginning that we both thought was beyond our grasp.

Time moves faster in green, I guess that's why I never felt that I had enough time with her, I feel that time is slipping through my fingers. I hold Grace and offer up my silent promise that she is never going to slip through my fingers, history is not going to repeat its self, this is a renewal.

Green is a restful color. As Jen rests, Grace and I explore the outside world. The green grass under foot is springy. She blinks her eyes at the bright yellow sunshine and waves her arms at the green trees as if recognizing her color. I can't quite believe that I have been blessed again. I feel warm arms circle me from behind and know that we aren't heading for greener pastures, we're already there.

* * *

_So if you have all got over your hatred of my for killing Gibbs yesterday you will appreciate the fact that I resurrected him, it's a miracle! _

_V!_

_xox_


	5. Pink

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Pink is a softer, less violent red. Pink is the sweet side of red. Its cotton candy and bubble gum and babies, especially little girls. She is our little girl, our baby, our world.

Pink can create physical weakness in people, she certainly creates a weakness in me, she has me wrapped around her finger, surrounding me in pink, making me bend to her will and I really don't care.

I never liked pink, always thought it was too garish. But now it is one of my favorite colors. The way it twirls into a room, laughter following, brightening up everything it touches, makes my heart clench. I never thought I would feel this way about anything or anybody again and now I do, about 2 things, my red and my pink. _Mine. _I like that word, I roll it around, savoring its taste; it goes well with red, it goes well with pink, it goes well with green.

Pink conveys playfulness and tenderness. She skips everywhere; she never walks because walking isn't good enough for her. She stares at me with those large green eyes, so like her mothers and places a tiny hand on my cheek, I nearly die.

She's a perfectionist. She stamps her foot when she can't do something and a deep red-pink swirls around her in angry waves. Sometimes I have to laugh, she is so like her mother sometimes, so much, even in the way that my hand on her shoulder stills her and the angry cloud dissipates and she laughs with me. Her tinkling laugh echoing around the house, bringing life to every corner, touching every object with a bright fuchsia.

Sometimes, when she places her tiny arms around my neck, I pull her to me, I want to engulf her, keep her with me, never let go, but pink cannot co-exist with another color, it is too unique, there are too many shades, it can compliment others but cannot expect her to stay in between red and blue always, flashing between pink and purple, she eventually has to fly, has to become her own person. And what a person she is going to be, I can't wait to meet her.

She is developing The Stare. She has almost got it, except hers is nicer than mine; hers is a stare with wide eyes, pink hands reaching out to plead, pink lips pouting slightly. I defy anyone to deny her anything after she has given them The Stare. It's impossible to ignore pink, especially her pink, maybe I am biased, maybe I am looking at the world through rose tinted glasses, but I couldn't care less. I secretly enjoy being wrapped around a small pink finger, bending to the every whim of Grace.

Sometimes I have to remind myself that she is real, that she isn't just a perfect figment of my imagination. Sometimes I have to remind myself that they are both real, that I do really have color back in my life, and that color swirls around me every waking moment. I wake up surrounded by red, breathing it in and suddenly I am surrounded by pink, a laughing, squirming bundle of pink. My colors, my world, my life.

* * *

_V!_

_xox_


	6. Purple

_Grace's point of view of her parents_

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Purple is royalty. A mysterious color, purple is associated with both nobility and spirituality. The opposites of hot red and cool blue combine to create this intriguing color. They are royalty, in thier own right, they rule each others world.

Because purple is derived from the mixing of a strong warm and strong cool color it has both warm and cool properties. I see so much of both of them in me. Her demanding fiery red and his cool, calming blue, a strange mixture of pink and purple. I am the slightly softer side of her and the slightly warmer side of him. Sometimes I look at them and can't quite believe the swirling currents of blue and the destructive fire of red that is so obviously clouding around them, it makes them hard to see sometimes, wrapped up in their own world.

They have this uncanny ability to communicate with just their eyes, her large green eyes and his piercing blue ones. Blue and green meeting to create turquoise, the color of water. They will stare at each other, across a table, or across a room and instinctively know what the other is thinking.

While purple is the color of royalty, lavender is the color of femininity. It's a grown up pink. Lavender has long been a favorite flower. This shade of purple suggests refinement along with grace, elegance, and something special. Her delicate features exude femininity and mystery. She is beautiful, and I am not just biased, she really is. He has to fight battles to keep others away from her and she just rolls her eyes and places her hand on his cheek, and he caves, his dark blue creeping away, being replaced by a light blue as he places his lips over hers.

Combining the stable and calming aspects of blue with the mystical and spiritual qualities of purple satisfies the need for reassurance in a complex world. I have always had a close bond with him. I used to sleep with his Purple Heart under my pillow, so proud of my father. He found it one day and had to explain everything, every single detail of his past that he had tried to hide from my, that I had missed with my eye. I have never experienced a feeling like it, rich dark purple trying to dilute his dark almost black blue, both of them mixing, blue trying to get out. She said he had always been like that though, desperate to cling onto guilt and pain, like he deserved it, and he felt guilty that we took most of the pain away. I was even more proud of him after that, if that was possible.

Blues with lavender are cool and sophisticated combination. They would turn heads, both of them together. So obviously in love, so obviously proud to have each other, and my heart would swell when they both looked at me. Surrounded by calming blue and warm red is my favorite thing in the world.

The color purple suggests something unique or extremely special with a deeper mystery than blue. They have always evoked the color purple in my mind. Mysterious looks that flash between them when they think no one else is looking, special touches that linger slightly longer that necessary, a unique love that is so obvious but rarely voiced.

Because purple is derived from the mixing of a strong warm and a strong cool color it has both warm and cool properties. My father, the cool one, always so strong, always a hero, my hero, mother's hero. His piercing blue eyes making you aware of the fact that you can never lie to him. And my mother, the warm one, also so strong, her warm, inviting green eyes make you want to melt into her arms, inhale the scent of her rich red hair and never grow up. The perfect mixture of coolness and warmth.

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_I think thats it. Hope you enjoyed it. _

_V!_

_xox_


End file.
